Complete
by BlackHeartedCrow
Summary: "...the Devil has set his sight on you and you gotta be strong baby. You have to go where no one but God can save you..." As I'm thrown down into a sea of red. I hear yelling in the distance as the vision around my eyes darken. The last thing I remember thinking is, "Oh God. Don't let me die."
1. Chapter 1

After taking my first grade students to lunch, I sit at my desk to have mine. A sandwich from the deli I brought in the morning wrapped in plastic and brown paper came out of my travel bag with a bottle of water. I turn on my iPod and start playing some gospel songs to calm my mind and spirit. It's hard being a teacher this days. The children of this generation need so much care. Luckily for me its my passion to teach children. I adored them. I say a little prayer over my lunch and start eating while taking sips of water. Sitting here looking out at the empty desk of my students I try to remind myself that all things work together for good. There was a meeting at church last Friday and although I've gone there since I was little when my Grandma was taking me until now. I never thought things would turn out the way it did.

**Last Friday**

"Okay everyone. There is one last thing I wish to talk about before we head home." Said Bishop. "Now, I have notice that a lot of people has come to the church now more than ever. That killer, they call the Collector, is still on the loose and the people are afraid. For their loved ones and for themselves. I prayed some nights ago saying, "Lord? What do I do? What can I do to bring the people close together in this time of need?" And do you know what He said? He said, "Give back to them." Give back to the people, give them something to bring them together as one. So, that we can draw strength from one another. Therefore, I've decided to have a yard sale. Anything in your house that you no longer need. We are going to give it away. Not just that but clothes and caned foods as well. And if no one wants to buy anything from the yard sale we are going to have food served on the side."

"Bishop?" Asked one of the members. "Is there a date that you want this to take place?"

"Yes." Bishop answered. "I want it done by the end of November. The weather is starting to change so I want it as soon as possible before it gets too cold out in the mornings and afternoons."

"Who's going to be in charge of this yard sale, Bishop?" Another member asked.

The Bishop looked around and somehow his aging brown eyes landed on me. "Leah?" He said and my eyes widen and jumped up to his face.

"Yes, Bishop?" I answer.

"I've known your Grandma for more than forty years. She's been such a blessing to this church and everyone she meets. If there was anything we needed done she had it for us. You have come here since you were a child, you know everyone in this church and the people in this community. So, I'm asking you Sister Leah Richardson to be the head of this event. Do you think you can do it?" He asked.

My mouth was so dry and my head so empty you could have heard the wind coming in and out of my ears. The Bishop was right about my Grandma. Before, God took her home she was the Elder, the Mother of this church. She talked to the young, poor and drug addicts of these streets so much so that they would come to church just to make her happy. Having her gone is the hardest thing for me to let go. I know God, has a plan for us but couldn't my Grandma have stayed just a little bit longer. Before she died, she said, "Le-Le," which is the nickname she called me. "You have a path you must walk. I don't know what it is but there is something great you have to do, baby. Don't be afraid to put all your trust in Him. Make me proud, Le-Le." Days after that she died in her bed and I got a call while at work.

With that in mind, I wet my lips and smile at Bishop.

"Yes, Bishop. I'll do it."

That was three days ago and although I said I'll do it. I couldn't help but feel scared it felt like a time bomb was about to go off and I didn't know when. I don't want to mess this up and make myself look foolish. I'm done little things like giving food to the homeless and reading the bible to the sick but this was another ball game. As I finish my lunch and look at the clock I see it's time to get the kids. I turn off my iPod and putting it back in my bag, I head out to get them.

**November**

The yard sale had been the most stressful and interesting thing I've put together. The area, which is the parking space, needed to be clean and I got some of the kids at my school and those at the church which go to the school I teach and their friends to clean the yard and give the wall a new paint job. I had a list on top of list of who was going to bring food, drink or other for the yard sale. I had to get everyone's number and address, just in case they couldn't come so someone can pick them up. I had to buy price tags so I could price the things being sold in the sale, make sure everything was in good congestion and so much more. Thank God, Bishop wanted this event within a month because there is no way I would be able to do this with less time.

Tables on the right is where the yard sale is being taken place and food and drinks were served on the left. The gate to the parking lot was open and today was a warm and sunny one too. I had the young kids hand out flyers all over of the yard sale. It was noon as I look at my watch one more time. No one seemed to be coming for a while and I felt my heart sink. I ran to the bathroom and send a silent prayer that people would come. Suddenly, I could hear my Grandma's voice telling me everything is going to be alright. That things don't happen over night. I wipe my tears, check my make-up and came out with a smile. By two O'clock it seemed the whole community had come and I couldn't take the smile off my face even if I wanted to.

Sales were going fine and the food was a quarter gone and people just seemed to keep coming. I walked around my a notebook and pen to write down anything I needed to remember. Some of the people who came asked to be members of the church so I took their names and number. Three hours had pasted and it seemed the rush slowed down a few. I looked around making sure everything was in order and that drinks were kept in the cooler. One of the helping ladies had to take her son to the bathroom so I helped handing out food until something or someone caught my eye.

In this area, the majorly of the people are Blacks and Latinos so when I see the back of a White man I just thought he was passing by. I continued to hand out food until the church member came back from taking her son to the bathroom. I removed the plastic gloves and apron while helping her put it back on. Taking my notebook and pen in hand I walked around the lot to see how everyone is doing. I must have walked around for a minute but no matter what I did or was looking at my eyes would fall on the White man. He stood in front of one of the paintings that sister Wendy donated and when I took my eyes off him, he would still be there. He stood with his hands to his back and head tinted to the side.

Taking a deep breath I found the will to approach him. I remembered to smile, which is the key to showing someone they feel welcomed and keeping my voice light and friendly.

"I like this one." I started, coming to stand just a few inches next to his shoulder. The painting was of a yellow, golden meadow with a blue sky and clouds. The sun was the main target in the painting as it looked like heaven was opening up. "It seems like heaven is opening up to wash away all the sins of the world." I reflected. I turned my eyes towards him without moving my head. I could make out his nose and short dark blonde hair, he looked to be in his mid thirty's with wide shoulders and strong back. The corner of his mouth lifted up and I knew he must have thought the same thing. I moved my eyes back to the painting and just tried to see what he saw for a moment.

Everything around me came to a stop as the sun started going down in the afternoon sky. The painting made me feel warm and happy and I could almost picture that I was really there watching a huge bright sun rise over a field of grass making it change to gold. I smiled at the thought. Why would sister Wendy throw this away? Until I remembered she's moving to the South soon. Maybe she put this up because she wants some extra cash. For a second, I thought about buying the painting for myself. That thought quickly flew away as I felt this feeling going up and down my back. I feel like someone was watching me so I turned slowly to the man next to me.

Dark almost black, blue eyes met my brown ones. The man looked at me, not at my chest or legs like most men, but my face. He didn't show any emotion at all. His eyes lowered to my lips and I realized I was still smiling. My smile dropped like a wet blanket but the man keep looking at me. I felt like the painting all of a sudden, like he was examining me as a lost treasure. His lips moved to say something and I wanted to hear what he had to say.

"Leah! Hey, Leah. How's it going?" Came the call from the other side of the man's shoulder.

I moved my eyes to the left to see Mark coming out of the kitchen area to greet me. I've known Mark since we were kids. His parents meet because my Grandma introduced them soon they got married and had him. Mark was one of the deacons in the church and a good one too. I've always known Mark liked me, he's everything a woman would want in a man, he's handsome, has a job, educated and never been in jail or did drugs. And that's saying a lot for most Black men. He walked over with a smile, smelling like he just came from a barber shop with a touch of cologne.

He walked pass the man to stand next to me and put his arm around my shoulder with a little squeeze at the end. Mark smiled showing all white teeth.

"Hello Brother. I'm Deacon Mark, what can I do for you?" Mark said offering the man his hand for a shake. The man turned his eyes back to the painting by then and didn't reach his hand out towards Mark. Whatever trance the man and I was under disappeared.

Mark moved his hand back and into his pocket when the man didn't answer and cleared his throat. To fill in the silence I spoke.

"I was just telling this gentleman what I thought of the painting sister Wendy is selling." I answered.

"Oh. Really?" Mark asked and looked over my head at the painting. "Wow," He said turning me and him towards the painting with me still under his arm. "Now that is a beautiful picture. Isn't it?" He asked me.

"Yeah." I replied under my breath.

"Don't you think, my man?" Mark asked nudging his shoulder.

The man's face turned to Mark in a flash and for a moment it felt like the whole world stood still. His dark blue eyes zeroing in on Mark like a hungry tiger. I had to do something to calm the atmosphere before things got out of hand.

I smiled at the man, trying to get his attention by moving from under Mark's arm and standing with my back towards the painting, facing both men. Mark's eyes turned into a man taking on a challenge. I could tell he was readying himself if the man got violent.

"Do you like the painting or anything else you see, Sir?" I asked like I was speaking to one of my first grade students.

The man's eyes turned to me and his body seemed to relax. For the first time he looked me up and down. He stared into my eyes one more time, tinted his head to the side and walked away. He walked through the slowly thinning crowd until me and Mark couldn't see him anymore.

"What is that man's problem?" Mark blurted out. He shook his head. "He must be on drugs. Did you see that guy? Lord help him. You're lucky I came over here. That man was looking at you like your fried chicken." He said folding his arms while looking at me in suspension. "Was he bothering you?"

I shook my head. My mind trying to tell my lungs to take air in and out. I didn't know why I was holding my breath but the man looked at me like I'm one of the things for sale. "No." I managed to say. "No. Mark, I'm fine." I sighed.

"You sure?" He asked.

"Yeah. Wait? You said he was looking at me?" I asked remembering what he said.

"Yeah. Sister Green said she saw you talking to the man. Then she saw him staring at you. She said, the man's got Devil eyes. Looking at an angel like you; like he's a man dying of thirst. I told her she was being silly until I saw it for myself. I didn't like it, Leah, not one bit."

"Well don't worry." I smiled. "You scared him off."

He laughed. "Nah, girl it was the Jesus in me that scared him off. It was like, 'Begone Satan! Begone!" He joked acting like he was going to start preaching.

"You better stop that." I laughed walking over to the food area but even as I left I could still feel that man's eyes on me.

Three weeks past and I've forgotten all about the strange man at the yard sale and everything moved back to normal. More started disappearing and now people were more scared than ever. This Collector guy was all over the news. I tried my best to only listen to the weather and that's it. The people taken, old and young, rich or poor put a chill through my body, this man didn't care who he took or killed. The Bishop would hold prayer meetings almost every night for those taken and the families.

I thought while washing the dishes, how could a man do this? Does he not care about the lives he's taken and families he's broken? I was so puzzled that I did the only thing I could do.

I prayed.

_Lord in heaven, whoever this man is stop him please. Please Lord, how many lives must be taken? I know, I shouldn't question you... but when will this madness end. What must be done to stop all this? I pray that he doesn't hurt another soul. If it is by your will let it be done. In Jesus name. Amen. _

That night I had the most strangest dream. I was in church and my Grandma was sitting next to me. She looked so happy and full of life just like she use to when I was a child. She looked at me and said, "Le-Le, the road you are going to take is not easy, baby." "I know Grandma you told me that, I said." "I know baby but it's going to be hard and I can't help you. You have to be strong Le-Le, the Devil has set his sight on you and you gotta be strong baby. You have to go where no one but God can save you, she said." "Grandma," I face her, tears threatening to leave my eyes, she was scaring me now she looked so worried. "Grandma," I say again, "Your starting to frighten me alright. Why are you saying all this?" "Oh Le-Le, she moaned." "Grandma!, I yell". She was bent over like she was in pain. I turn to the others but they were gone the church cold and empty like a graveyard. "Help, help! Grandma stay with me. Don't leave me!" I scream coming to her side as she lies on the floor blood pooling from her mouth and I try in vain to stop it. "Le-Le, she says" and I wake up.

I walked around for days with a dark cloud over my head. Somehow that one sentence keep jumping out at me, "The Devil has set his sight on you..." I know as a Christian the devil is always after the people of God, trying anything he can to make us and those that are not saved fall. However, the way my Grandma said it. The way she looked so worried like my life was in danger. I couldn't shake the feeling off.

Friday was another church meeting. Nothing new just a little changes to the time and dates. Driving home in the night use to be relaxing but now it felt like at any moment something was going to happen. That time bomb feeling again. I got home, locked the doors while checking the windows. Everything was fine. I can't let this feeling last, I thought, I have to keep my spirits up. Since it was the weekend I decided to take a bath. Getting everything I needed the bath calmed my body. The scent and steam in the air made me feel like I'm at a spa. All to soon the water starts getting cold so I drain it and take a shower. Putting on my old high school shirt and sweats I walk to the kitchen to find me something to eat.

Sitting on the couch eating leftovers while watching an old movie with Fred and Ginger dancing like their feet is made of air, I smile. This is what I needed. Before I knew it the movie was over and I was tired. As I head back to the kitchen to put my dishes away. There sitting in the middle of the room is a big red box.

"What?" I say, coming towards it. I knew I should have called the police or something but my mind was so blink at that moment. I couldn't understand why a red box was in my kitchen. "What is this?" I say.

Then the box moves with a thumb making every hair on my body rise up. I step back, ready to reach the phone until I hear something.

"Please! Please let me out"

I stop dead in my tracks. Oh Lord! Did that come from the box?

"Please let me out. I won't run away again. Please I'll be good. I promise."

"Hello?" I call out and the voice stops.

"Hey? Hey, is somebody there? Oh thank God, please let me out."

"How are you in my house?" I demand.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Please let me out before he comes back."

"Comes back?" I question. "Who?"

"I don't know. Please! Please let me out!"

The voice was that of a man. He sound so broken and helpless I couldn't just stand there. I run to the box and see that there are claps on the side. I pull them open and out falls the body of a man maybe in his early twenties. His bloody and smells like he hasn't showered in a while. His clothes are thorn so much so that they barely stay on his body. He crawls away from the box like its fulled with poisonous snakes. He crawls towards the couch and sits with his hands around his knees like a pillow. He looks around in every corner like a madman. Once he saw that the place was safe he crawls over towards me. Before, I can move he grabs my arm and shakes it.

"Listen to me Miss. We have to get out of here. He's coming I know he is. We have to call the police. I have to get out of here!" He screams finally.

"Okay. Okay, I'll call the police once you let me go." I say, my voice shaking.

"Okay." The boy repeats over and over like a prayer.

I stand to my feet and move to the phone on weak legs. When I reach the phone and put it to my ear I don't hear a dial tone. I press the numbers, anything but nothing works.

"The phone's died." I say to the boy who starts rocking himself back and forth.

"What!" He says. "No, no, no, no, no, no! Miss he's coming we need to get the fuck out of here!

"Alright let me get my car keys." I say before backing away to my bedroom door.

"No, we don't have time for that!" The boy says, "He's coming."

"Listen I know you're scared but..."

That's the last thing I say when I open my bedroom door and see two glowing eyes staring back at me. The eyes move closer and I can see the shape of a head and lips. I move back and I hear the boy let out a scream of bloody murder. The man is a foot or two taller than me and I hear a strange breathing sound coming from him. I hear the boy banging at my front door trying to get it open.

"NO, NO, NO NONONONONO!" The boy screams his words so close together they sound as one.

The man reaches his hands out towards me like he wants to give me a hug, black gloves cover his hands like a second skin. I back up until my bottom hits the red box in the middle of my kitchen. Long sleeve shirt, pants and boots all in black. But the one thing that disturbs me is the mask. Tightly placed on his face in a material I've never seen, holes for the eyes and mouth making it seem twisted and pulled at one side. His eyes, glow in the kitchen light like black pearls.

What happen next felt like I've been hit by a truck in the head, my body falls but iron chains pull me up-right as I'm thrown down into a sea of red. I hear yelling in the distance as the vision around my eyes darken. The last thing I remember thinking is, "Oh God. Don't let me die".

**A/N: Hmm hello. I've had this bug in my head for a while now. I saw the movies "The Collector and The Collection" and not to long ago I saw the second one again. Anyways I'm not sure if anyone is going to read this but I wanted to put this weird obsession I've gotten on paper... I mean screen. Okay bye now! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

It was the feeling of movement that woke me up. My body shook like I am sleeping on a boat in the middle of the ocean. I lift my head and a sharp pain forms on the right side of my head. My knees are drawn close to my stomach and my arms are placed in an odd angle as I'm laying on something solid. I move my hand to my head but it hits a wall or I think it's a wall. I try to turn my body to get comfortable but it feels like I'm in a small space.

Small space? Oh no! I remember now. The big red box, the screaming and bloody boy, eyes like black pearls, a terrible breathing sound coming from those lips behind that mask. That horrible evil-looking mask. "He's coming," I hear the boy in my head say, "Who's coming?" I question. Oh no, where am I? What happened? The man didn't kill me so he must want me for something. Yet, what could I give? I'm not rich or famous. What does he want? Then suddenly, I remember all the things I've heard about on the news a madman going around killing and kidnapping people. But it couldn't be. No! No!

I push my hands against the surface and all around me feels the same. That man, he put me in the box the boy was in. This can't be happening! Oh God! Someone, anyone save me! I start banging my fist against the sides and kicking my feet as hard as I can. I have to get out of here. I have to. I bang and bang until I feel the slow movement of whatever I'm in stop. Then, without warning I hear a great boom on the other side of the box, the sound almost made me pee myself it was like thunder. There was a moment of total silence until I hear the sound of a low hum and movement starts again.

I understood suddenly what the man, who kidnapped me, was saying, 'Stop making that noise...or else'. I wrap my arms around me and press my knees close to my chest. I wasn't brave enough to find out what the 'or else' meant so, I lay there and cry. I've never felt so helpless and alone. Even when my Grandma died, I was heartbroken, yes, but I have so many good memories of her that that was the push to keep me going. But this, this is different, I'm sitting not too far from a madman. Lord, only knows what he'll do to me. Every horror movie with crazy killers in them run through my head, Silence of the Lambs, Halloween, Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elms Street, Saw one, two and three, and the list went on.

Okay, Leah, think what can this man do to you? Alright, he could one: kill me, two: torture me and three: (because I'm a woman) he could rape me. My chances were two out of three or one out of three and, if this man is really off his rocker, it could be three out of three. With nothing else to do, I pray.

_Father in heaven, I so scared. I am so terribly, terribly afraid. I'm in the grasp of this madman and I don't know what to do. He could rape, torture or kill me. I'm placing my life in your hands because I know its in your hands, whether I live or die. But Lord, all I ask is that if this man wants to kill me let it be quick and painless. Forgive me of all my sins and let thy will be done. In Jesus name. Amen. _

Tears cover my face as I wipe them away with my shirt. I try to think of something peaceful to get my mind off of what is happening or going to happen. I think of my first grade students, all their faces smiling at me as we sit in a circle on a rug. I read them books like, _I Like Pickle Juice on a Cookie, __The Girl Who Never Made Mistakes _and, _David Goes to School. _They laugh as I make funny voices and cheer when the story ends while asking for more. I'll miss them. I've been blessed to have great students or as the other teachers say, the students are blessed to have me. My eyes water with tears thinking about them. Suddenly, the low hum and movement stops as I hear a door open and close.

We've arrived. I hear his heavy footsteps walk on hard ground, his steps echo in the silence. My breath caught in my lungs my hands holding my shaking body as each nerve jumps like popcorn. My eyes as big and full as the moon while they search in every corner although all I can see is darkness. Another door opens and this one is closer, I wet my dry lips trying to take deep breaths. The box I'm in jerks as its pulled, it hits the ground hard and I try to keep in a scream, as a door is slammed closed. One side of the box lifts up and I'm dragged along the floor. I hear the sound of keys, doors unlocked and closed while I'm dragged this way and that.

This goes on for a while and I have the most freighting idea that this man's lair is built like a labyrinth. A labyrinth where he has all the keys. I hear a scream and the rattling of chains or cages. Oh no! There are others. Victims like myself. Poor lost souls who has fallen prey to this monster. He stops again at a door and this time I don't hear the sound of hard wooden floors but smooth like marble. I hear a click and light, so bright like a trucks head-lights shines from a little hole in the box. Someone must have but it there, one of his late victims. I move close to the hole to see and everything is white, the floor the walls.

He drags me some more and I almost scream with everything in me as I see a woman laying on a bed, no arms with her insides hanging in a net over her, a man's head on a shelf, a jar with a brain inside and by then I can't take it anymore so I turn away. Never in all my years or lifetime could I imagine seeing something like that. My stomach threatens to throw up what I ate for dinner my body shakes so hard I feel like a drug addict going cold turkey. My hands and feet feel ice cold and numb. Oh God, no. Please, no!

I can hear him breathing as he walks around the box running his hand on it like a blind person. One by one I hear the chaps pulled back and my heart stops each time. Then, like a child opening a present before Christmas he opens the box slowly. I back up against the side, my knees drawn to my chest. I wouldn't run. What was the point when I knew and he knows that every door is locked. But he wanted me to run, he had to for he looked down at me, his lips parted his eyes black as tar but shining like sliver coins, he tilts his head and takes three steps back.

Waiting.

Oh No! If he thinks I'm going to run out screaming and kicking he has another thing coming. I wasn't going to make a fool of myself. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of me trying to escape like a head-less chicken. If he wanted to torture or kill me I'm not giving him any reason too. I narrow my eyes at him and I think he smirked. He lifts a finger and calmly signals for me to come out. I thought about shaking my head, no, but thought better of it because I don't want his hands on me. I watch him, my eyes trained on him like a wild cat ready to attack, he tilts his head the other way.

I rise up to my feet, not thinking or seeing the horrible lab around me. My legs feel like jelly and my feet lifeless as I take one step from the box. I stand there refusing to move left, right or even towards him, willing my body to be strong, my back to be straight, my hands to not shake, and my head high. All this he sees, his eyes moving over my body like a work of art, he walks to the left and I almost jump but control myself quickly, he stops and walks to the right and my eyes follow him like a police dog. He's toying with me, I think, he wants me afraid. Yet, I stand like a soldier, a warrior.

You may not fight like Bruce Lee but inside you're a warrior, I tell myself. And then, he does the ultimate test. He takes out a thick wicked looking knife from his side, I try not to watch the blade as he turns it around in his black gloved fingers making it dance in the light. My heart beat is so loud and fast my hands shake. I hear a soft voice in my head say, 'He's just a man. Don't fear him for he can only destroy the body but God can destroy the body and soul'. With that in mind I narrow my eyes at him like I do to my students when they're in trouble. He smirks again like I've said the most funniest joke.

Then, he walks towards me, my heart beats faster thinking the end is near. I tell myself it's going to be over now, just a little bit of pain and then it's over. I'll see my parents and my Grandma in heaven and never have to worry about this cold, evil world ever again. And when I see Jesus I'll tell him, thank you for being there when no one else was. I may not have gotten married or a house full of children like I always wanted but in the end I keep the faith. And I made my Grandma proud.

I close my eyes. Waiting. Waiting and waiting. I never thought my death would be so painless, I think, but wait? What happened? I open my eyes and see the man's shining black eyes stare back at me. My heart is calm my breathing low and steady my eyes look at him in confusion. What's he waiting for? Sure, I don't want to die but he's a killer and that's what they do, kill. His lips mumble something but no words come out, maybe he's talking to himself, I think, after all he is crazy, his eyes search my face trying to find something. From the corner of my eye I see the tip of the knife and force myself to keep my eyes only on his.

'He's a man, I think, just a man. Crazy, yes, but just a man'.

He turns the knife moving it inches towards my left eye. I narrow my eyes at him, daring him. With everything in me, I let him see that I. Am. Not. Afraid. Suddenly, the knife leaves my sight and he smiles. His eyes seem to dance like a child finding out he's going to Disney Land. Without warning, both his black gloved hands hold my face, he turns my head to the left then right then he tilts my head up and down, he's not rough he's gentle, careful like examining a glass vase. This man, the Collector, they call him starts running his fingers through my curly/wavy hair, he watches it cover and fall over his hands like black silk.

I hear that strange breathing or wheezing sound come from his mouth. I stand still like my body is made of stone. Too afraid that this man will suddenly snap and want to kill me. What he does next makes my eyes widen so big they almost fall out, he leans my head towards him and smells my hair, deeply, like he's a man in need of oxygen, while his other hand twists a lock of my hair. What the...? I haven't got this much attention since volunteering with special children, if they liked you they would rub your arm or touch your hair; one of them even called me, dolly. But his man wasn't one of those children, he's a full blooded male.

Male? **Oh.** Well, I had a feeling it was going to be two out of three.

The hand in my hair gently travels up and down my back like he's calming a troubled animal and it makes my spin tickle.

Make that one out of three.

The spell is broken as a loud yell could be heard from beyond the door. He stops smelling my hair and touching my back. His body tenses and his hands drops down to his sides like I'm made of fire. He rockets to the door about to open it but suddenly his hand stops inches from the doorknob as he slowly turns his head to me. I stand there, not sure if he wants me to stay or leave with him. He turns around and points to the red box behind me. I look to the box and him. With my eyes on him I flatten the red box to the floor, he points again taking a sharp step towards me and I lower myself inside, the scream outside the door is heard again as he comes standing over me and closes the lid. He locks the box quickly as the scream becomes louder, I hear his heavy footsteps and the opening and slamming of the door.

I lay there telling myself to breath. He didn't kill me or torture me... Yet. However, I'm not going to complain, I silently thank God that I'm alright. For now. It's not that I doubt God but I am dealing with a madman who could snap and make me just like that poor soul out there. I hear the scream again but this time it's a voice.

"Do it already! You freak! Do it! F**k you, you piece of sh*t. I'm not scared of you! Go on, do it. I dare you, you f**king fagot!"

"Aaaaaahhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaaaa! Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh! No! No! WAIT! Noooo!Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ah ah ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

My body shakes like a frightened child, the man's scream sends hot tears to my eyes. The screaming has stopped and I'm cold all over.

_Father in heaven, give me strength. Help me, Lord, help me to be strong. Help me to be strong._

I repeat, 'help me to be strong', over and over until I somehow end up asleep. I dream of my Grandma making apple pie as it comes out of the oven sweet and hot. That was the day when my parents went out and I spent the night at Grandma's. That's also the day a police officer came in the middle of the night to tell my Grandma that my parents have been shot in a crossfire between gangs. For my Dad, he died instantly with a bullet to the chest but my Mom managed to survive a trip to the hospital but died a few hours later. I remember now, my Grandma rocking back and forth on her bed holding the bible to her chest saying,'help me to be strong', over and over with tears running down her face. That was the first time I've ever seen her cry its funny how life works out where I'm doing the same thing. After, that I didn't dream anymore.

Silence. Darkness. Peace.

There was a moment in my sleep where I felt something gently move through my hair and down my face.

"Grandma." I whisper, only she would check on me at night to make sure I'm okay. "Don't worry, Grandma, I'm alright." I take her hand from my cheek and give it a kiss. "Goodnight. I love you."

I don't know when I woke up but my eyes opened and I stared into space for a while. Not a sound heard and all I want is to see the sun shining through my curtains and feel my warm pillows and cover surround me. I also, want to stretch my leg too. I rub my knee and lower back to get the tension out. Its strange, here I am, kidnapped by this madman and I'm not even thinking of a way to escape. The poor soul screaming last night made my body shiver, this madman, the Collector, is a smart fellow. He keeps doors locked and has a ring of keys on his hip like a janitor. He also, keeps a weapon; one stab with that knife can make a grown man cry for his mama. Not only that, but he looked to be in shape, wide shoulders, flat stomach and thick arms there's no way to fight him off.

Whoever this man is he's prepared himself of this. But why? Did he have a horrible past? Drunk abusive father? Pill-popping or prostitute mother? Molesting uncle? The list went on and on, really. I can only pray it's not all thee above with this man.

_Father in heaven, thank you for waking me up this morning or afternoon, I'm not sure. I don't what's going to happen but stay with me and help me to be strong. Always. In Jesus name. Amen. _

Not a second passes after I pray that I hear a door opening and closing lightly. Footsteps walk towards the red box and I wait for what he's gonna do next. Three knocks on the lid make me gasp. Does he want me to knock back?, I think. I humor him and do a tune.

Knock – knock, knock – knock – knock.

Knock – knock!

He finishes the tune. I hear the locks removed and slowly the lid is open. He stands over me as I rub my tired face from sleep looking up at him I watch to see what he' s going to do. He doesn't do anything for a minute but tilts his head as I feel his eyes watch my every move. I lay there readying myself for whatever is to come making my heart relax and my breathing slow. Then, as before he takes three steps back. Waiting. I realize his mask looks like something a person who enjoys pain while intercourse would have all he needs is a red rubber ball in his mouth to complete the look. I stay there in the box not wanting to leave its comfort, if he wants me then he's going to have to get me I'm not going to willingly walk into a trap. I remember hearing that on the news, he traps his victims and takes only one person alive. I guess now those victims wish they had died too than suffer at the hands of this man; The Collector.

He realizes now I'm not leaving the box and walks back to look at me fully. He leans over and I close my eyes but nothing happens. I open them and see his hand reached out to me. I look at his hand and him back and forth for a moment, then licking my lips I carefully although, my hand shook like an earthquake, put my hand in his. His gloved hand is warm almost hot against my cold one as his fingers closes around mine and he rubs my knuckles with his thumb. His hand is strong each digit pulling my out of the box like I'm Cinderella coming out of her carriage. I step over on to the ground and feel cold wood under my bare feet my eyes stay on him and his on mine.

Once I'm out my first reaction is to rip my hand from his but I wait. He's in control now, I'm the victim and victims never call the shots. This is his house and he makes the rules. I have to stay on his good side if I want to live, if he'll let me. His lips part like he's trying to smile through the tiny mouth hole and his eyes dance over my face. I want to look away, anything but him, suddenly, I give a small cry as his strong hand pulls me to him I can't stop my feet in time and end up crashing into his chest. I look up in shock and step back quickly but he holds my shoulders I'm scared he might strangle me but I will my body to stay calm.

Don't show any fear. He wants you to be afraid of him. He's just a man, he's not God, just a warm-blooded male, I think to myself. He eats, sleeps and breathes like you do. Show him that's he's nothing special, show him you are a warrior with the heart of a lion. His head tilts again watching me like he can read my every thought he leans his head in and smells my hair like before. His hand slides up and down my arm while the other wraps around my wrist. His fingers press down on my wrist as he brings his other hand up from my arm to my shoulder and my back, then, my lower back.

Oh, H-E-double-L, No! You have got to be joking.

He smirks again seeing the confusion in my eyes. Suddenly, like he's dropped in a tub of ice water, he lets me go and walks pass me. I'm breathless as I try to make sense of what just happened. I turn sharply not trusting my back to him, his back is facing me with his head down. Something is laid by his feet a bag, maybe, he kneels down to pick it up and I see now that it's a white paper bag with a thick string at the top for handles; its one of those gift bags you get from clothing stores. I don't see the name as he turns to me once again, he reaches inside and pulls out something long black material.

I stare at him not understanding what the thing is but my unspoken question is answered as he holds the cloth in both hands to show... a dress, a cocktail one at that. Looking at the black dress now I can tell this wasn't cheap, the dress is short with no sleeves or back but two long ropes are attached to the front to tie it from behind. A dress like this is something a middle class woman would only wear for special occasions or night clubs but a rich woman would wear this to cocktail parties and for her lover she's having an affair with.

He looks me up and down and all my female alarm bells start going off. He wants me to put on the dress and my guess is right in front of him too. My eyes widen a little trying to hope this can't be true. This is all a fantasy for him and you're the doll, I think. He takes a sharp step towards me and I know he wants me undressed now. I look around, taking my eyes off him for a second. The room is plain, the windows to the left are boarded up and the red box, that's it. No where to run and hide. I've slept with guys before I became a christian so it's not like I'm innocent but this is a madman. Who knows what he's going to make me do next.

He's just a man, I think, he has needs like everyone else although, sick and twisted as they may be. Without wanting my good grace to end I place my hands on my sweats and slide them off my legs, I step out of them and place it over the box. He does a strange wheezing sound and my body almost shakes. Next, is the big test, I don't have a bra on since I was getting ready for bed before this man took me therefore once I remove the shirt I will be in nothing but my panties. I take a deep breath, trying to not think of him standing there watching me so closely. I grab hold of the helm and in a flash I remove it.

I feel so dirty right now that I want to cry. My dark nipples harden in the cool air as goosebumps form over my brown skin. When I look at him, he's licking his lips like he's about to eat chocolate cake. Not wanting him to get carried away I reach my hand out for the dress, for a moment I thought he wouldn't give it to me but he tilts his head looks me up and down once more before handing me the dress. I take it and smell the-new-clothes scent coming off it while quickly putting the dress on, it fits like it was made for me. The dress ends just above my knee and hangs on to every curve.

I don't know how he knew my size and right now I don't care, my body is covered from view, well mostly. His eyes stay on me the whole time he even nods his head a little to show he approves looking at me again he points his finger downward and turns it in a circle. 'Turn around', he seems to order. I obey, walking behind me he's so close I can smell the soap he washed with and his breath on my neck. He takes the two ropes hanging in the front, pulls them up and back over my shoulders when he's done his hands once again run up and down my arms then up to my shoulders, he rubs them for a moment like he trying to make me relaxed.

His hands fix my messy curls so they are not all over the place. Suddenly, he removes the hair from my left shoulder and smells my neck. The mask brushes my skin and I gasp, I thought it would be cold but its warm and soft like its made of wool. He moves away again and I see him reach in the bag and bring out black rolled up stockings. He sits on the closed red box and points his finger for me to come. With careful steps I stand before him, he grabs the back of my right knee and places my foot on his thigh, I almost lose balance and without thinking I put my hand on his shoulder, he looks up at me and smiles.

Taking one stocking he slides my foot inside and very slowly rolls it up to my thigh, when he's finish his gloved hand slides down my leg. He does the same thing to my left leg but before I think he's done with me he reaches in the bag and takes out red heels. He puts them on my feet like a footwear professional and just like the dress they fit me perfectly. He takes me by the hips and backs me up while he stands as well, he walks around me like a man would who is loving what his' woman is wearing for him. He stands in front of me and lifts up my chin to look in his eyes.

Black pearls meet brown.

Out of no where he takes out a tube of lipstick he opens it and the color is blood red. Like a painter working on a masterpiece he colors my full lips in. When, he's done he puts the lipstick away and I would have sworn his lips mouth the word... _Beautiful. _


	3. Chapter 3

Minutes, hours and maybe even days passed, the sound of a clock ticking, a car driving by, people talking and walking even a police siren are the noises we take for granted but for me it's what I miss. He keeps me here in this box and all I can do is wait. Wait for him to come and do who knows what to me. I'm still wearing the black cocktail dress and stockings he made me wear. The red shoes are outside sitting on the side of the box. He took them off me again before taking my hand like a gentleman while I step back inside. I don't know what he plans to do to me but I pray every moment it's not something horrible.

From time to time I can hear movement outside this box, even my room. Hammering, sawing, heavy objects being moved, doors opening and closing its like he's building sometimes and, in other times I hear things that make me glad I'm in this box. Screams of pain, cries of sorrow, yells of anger, feet running in circles while banging on doors with calls for help. It all ends the same. More screams and pleads for mercy. I pray for those people, pray that at least one breaks free of this place.

The food he gives me is not bad, its TV dinners with a cold bottle of water. While, sleeping I often wake up to find the lid open and when I sit up to look around he places the food by the door. He left a note once saying, 'Eat me. Drink me'. Great! Now, I'm Alice in Wonderland, the sad truth is it makes sense since he's as mad as a hatter. I thought the food was poisoned at first but my body demanded food and after saying a prayer. I ate. To make sure he doesn't get mad at me I return to the box and close the lid.

I think every moment of the people and friends I've made. Are they worried about me? Have they gone to the police to report me missing? What have they told my students when I didn't come in today or the next day? Is the Bishop and church members hanging up missing persons papers or went on TV, like many others, asking if anyone knows of my whereabouts? I want to cry thinking off all the trouble they are going through for me. I can image Mark driving around in the dead of night, rain or snow, looking for me. I can see him sitting at home trying to stay awake the news on in the background while waiting for the phone to ring. Hoping and praying that the police, someone, anyone has found me.

I feel so helpless. I can feel depression creeping up on me like a thick fog. I try to keep my thoughts pure and positive yet somehow it flows over me.

Then, while I'm resting I hear him. His footsteps calm and slow walk down the hall and although he has went pass my door many times I know he's coming for me. I feel it as if his fingers are sliding up and down my back. He stops at my door and I can hear him breathing, his hands reaching for the chain of keys at his hip, the key entering the keyhole and the sound of the door unlocking. He walks inside and each step is in tune with the beat of my heart. Oh, Lord, what is he up to now? Please keep me strong.

I hear his fingers brush the lid like he's touching something priceless, in a flash, he lifts up one side and drags me across the floor. He's taking me some where and I pray it's not to that monstrous lab. Twists and turns that seem to go on forever until finally he stops. He unlocks a door, drags the box inside and closes it behind him. I hear him unlocking the red trunk then slowly he opens the lid.

I cover my eyes from the light shinning down on me. He waits patiently as my eyes adjust to the light. I look up to see him standing over me, he watches me for a moment as I try to show him I'm not afraid of him. His lips part as he reaches for my hand, instantly I take it desperate for human contact I stand to my feet with as much grace as I can muster on weak legs, maybe that's why he keep his victims in trunks, to weaken their legs so that it's hard for them to run. I begin to step out but my numb feet miscalculated how high the edge is and I trip forward. With a soft cry like the girl I am, my body follows yet arms as tough as iron keep me from falling. I want to cry. Even my own body betrays me. I can't believe how weak, low and helpless I am.

Here I am having a madman hold me because I can't stand on my own two feet. With willpower I didn't know I had I suck in the tears and hurt and put on my best poker-face while pushing my limbs to the max. I push back from him, determination in each move like a broken woman learning how to walk again. He lets me go to watch me. He tilts his head and smirks like a proud father while I come to stand on my feet. I step out without his help my breathing hard and loud. He watches me some more, probably waiting for me to fall again. Yet, he looks into my eyes seeing that I'm not willing to give up, he walks to the side and its the first time I look around the room.

The floor is made of polished wood, the walls are painted a soft red color, there is a big crystal chandelier over my head, a queen sized four post bed covered in pillows and red curtains hanging above and, a wide black furred carpet underneath. To the other side of me is a low but wide wooden dresser, across from me is another door, it's opened a little but from where I am I can tell it's a bathroom.

"Sweet baby Jesus." I say. The first words my brain is able to piece together.

Mouth open and eyes wide. This room is made for a king, I turn to him finally not able to keep the shock and amazement off my face. He walks around me looking down like this is nothing, like he's seen better. He kneels down near the red trunk, I don't remember walking away from it or maybe he moved it while I was looking around. He picks up my red shoes, he walks towards me and, gets down on his knees taking my ankle he slips my foot inside each one.

He gets up and walks over to the low dresser and on top I see a box. Well, I think it's a box I can't see what he's doing but then suddenly a noise fills the room. Slow notes from a piano and then words.

_**Crazy**_

_**I'm crazy for feeling so lonely**_

I know this song I've heard it many times before, he walks towards me and I can see the box is a record player.

_**I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue**_

_**I knew you'll love me as long as you wanted**_

He reaches his hand out and without delay I take it, in a flash, he presses my body to his, he places my hand on his shoulder and his on my lower back.

_**and then someday you'll leave me for somebody new.**_

_**Worry, why do I let myself worry?**_

I think to myself we're going to do the basic dance, moving side to side. However that wasn't the case, he slowly swings me around like we're in a ballroom. I almost trip again but he holds me tight.

_**Wondering what in the world did I do?**_

_**Ohhh. **_

Soon, I gain my footing and we're dancing as one with his mask and my face cheek to cheek. From the outside looking in someone would have thought we've been lovers for years.

_**Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you.**_

_**I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying **_

_**and I'm crazy for loving you. **_

He inhales my neck and hair while his other hand holding mine rubs my knuckles.

_**Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you.**_

_**I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying and **_

_**I'm crazy for loving you.**_

He lets the song play a few more times as the room spins around and around. I try to come up with a reason for him doing this. What have I done to deserve such treatment? Has he treated any of his other victims like this? And, my favorite, what does he want from me? Soon he moves his head from my cheek, he looks deep into my eyes and I stare back. The hand holding mine let's go and he lightly, with his black gloved fingertip, runs across my face. I'm speechless as his finger outlines my eyes, nose, cheeks and lips.

I want to speak. I want to ask like the many poor souls trapped here, why? What have I done? Pieces of my life come to mind while looking into those black pearl eyes of his. I've never done drugs, too afraid that my Grandma will find out, I slept with a few guys while in college, thinking I'm a grown woman and I can do what I want. I've never stolen anything because if I needed something I had money to buy it. I've become a Christian by giving my life over to God and teach kids for a living. I am not trying to say that I'm better than anyone but why does this man the one they call, The Collector, want me?

The song ends one more time and quickly he lets me go to turn off the record player. I watch him stand there with his hands planted flat on the dresser and his head bent as he takes deep breaths like he's been running a marathon. I start getting worried suddenly, not knowing if this man is going to kill me or whatever evil deed he thinks of. Before my eyes he puts his body under control, squaring his shoulders and straightening his back. He turns to me again his eyes burning holes into my body like he doesn't want me in the room or to look at him. I see him grit his teeth like a mad dog and in seconds my heart races, he's mad about something and I don't understand what I did to upset him. In quick steps he marches to me and I take a half step back, before I can even blink he back-hands me across the face. The blow makes my head spin and my vision blur as my body falls hard to the floor, he stands over me his fist opening and closing like he's squeezing a stress ball. Finally, he paces back and forth like an angry bull as the right side of my brain feels like it explored and my cheek hotter than red-hot iron.

My body wants to rest and my eyes try to close into sleep against my will, but I keep my eyes open seeing his black booted feet pace and pace. At one moment he walks towards me, stops and starts walking again. Suddenly, after tasting cropper in my mouth I feel my hair being pulled with great force, I hold in a yelp as he lifts me up to my feet. He pulls my hair so that I am facing him and all I see is a face in pure rage. I look at him keeping my face blank and my eyes strong. He takes out a knife and draws it to my skin, its cold as the tip travels up my chest, neck then cheek. I see his hand shake, just a little.

Suddenly he looks into my eyes his body freezes then he tilts his head slowly to the side. In a flash, the knife is gone and he throws me at the foot of the bed on the thick fur carpet. I hear his feet march to the door, he opens it and slams it so hard the chandelier shakes, I hear the ever-present sound of the door being locked as I let tears fall. With as much strength as I can I walk to the bathroom. Everything is colored white, the floor, the tub, toilet and walls and the shower curtain is clear. There are white towels on a small shelf with bars of soap. Over the sink I see a mirror and the face that greets me is a brown-skinned woman with curly black hair and full lips, for a moment, I thought I would look different but my face hasn't changed which makes me wonder what he sees in me. Turning to the right side of my face its cherry red and my eye feels heavy. It'll get swollen if I don't put something cold on it. Taking one of the small rugs I run cold water on it and put it to my face. I hiss.

After doing this again for a while I feel like my cheek is going to be alright, I turn on the shower. I look to the red-painted room and close the door since the shower curtain is clear and if he happens to comes back I don't want him to see me. I take off my shoes, stockings and dress and lay them over the toilet. With a bar of soap in hand and the hot water running I finally, at long last, take a shower. First, it's one tear then more start to fall, my lips trembles and my knees go weak. I slide down to the bottom and cry.

_Father in heaven, what do I do now? I'm so lost and scared. Please tell me what my purpose is here in this place? What do I have to do? Please help me Lord, if its thy will but if not let it end. Oh, God, help me to be strong. _

Suddenly, I feel a warmth start at my belly to my chest. Knowing the signs of the Holy Spirit, I get up feeling strength in my once weak legs. I take a deep breath and turn off the water. Wrapping a towel around me I go to the dresser and open the draws to find something to sleep in. Inside looks like Victoria Secret had a clearance sale. Men, I groan. Why do they believe that all women wear is silk and satin? Oh, well. I find something to wear which is a sky blue satin nightgown that stops above me knees. I go to the bed, remove the thick covers and melt into the mattress.

While sleeping I feel a presence near me a chill runs up my back making the hairs on my neck stand up, yet, my body demands to stay under and rest but my brain screams at me to get up. Slowly I try to will my heavy body to move but all I do is moan. Then, as light as a feather I feel something touch my hair, for a moment, then it goes to my still hurt cheek, rubbing it like a loving mother. I moan again and suddenly the gentle touch is gone.

'...the Devil has set his sight on you and you gotta be strong.." I heard my Grandma whisper.

Suddenly there's a loud scream and I jump awake, the fog of sleep gone as my heat beats hard. I sit up and look around feeling like I had a nightmare. The scream comes again and I can hear it outside the door. Somewhere another person has fallen prey.

"Please! No! Somebody help me! HELP ME! Oh God, no, no! I'll do whatever you want just let me go. I won't tell anyone, I promise. Please! Oh my God, oh my God, no, no. I have wife and children. Please they need me. I have money too! I'll give you whatever you want. Just let me go." I hear the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor, another trunk, then, banging like it's coming from inside it. My body goes numb as I sit here helpless I look around my room and suddenly it seems ugly to me. Another box, that's all it is.

I hear the yelling continue down the hall until a door slams then it's quiet again. I get up from the bed to work my legs. As I walk around I notice the red box and record player is gone. He must have come back while I slept, I go to the bathroom and do my business. My heart tries to calm down from the horrible awaking, I don't know if its morning, afternoon or night everything just seems to roll up into one long day. I search for a window and see one behind a red curtain when I push it aside the window is fulled up in bricks. I look at the bricks and see that they're fresh which means there's no way to break this even with a heavy object. I hit it in anger.

I turn to the door and I can feel my feet turn cold and numb every step I take towards it. The door looks to be made of steel and the doorknob too. With a sigh I lean my back to it and slide down to the floor. Outside I hear a door open and my body jumps up to my feet, booted footsteps walk down the hall and I back up from the door. Suddenly they stops by my room and I place my hand over my mouth. I hear him breathing as he takes slow steps to the door. He stands there and stands there. Slowly I walk to the door and put my ear against it, listening. I don't know how I know but I can _feel_ him place his hand on the door like he's touching my very skin, when I hear the jungle of keys; I gasp.

I cover my mouth again as there's total silence on the other side. Did he hear me? I think, he is going to come in? I'm about to move backwards until suddenly there is screaming in the distance. The spell is broken as he walks back down the hall and away from my door. I let out a breath. Like the coward I am I run back into bed and put the covers over my head. My empty stomach wakes me up, I open my eyes and realize I smell something. I sit up and see a fold up table with a TV dinner and a bottle of water at the end of the bed, I get up and walk to it.

Steam rises from the hot plate and my stomach growls again. I'm about to take a bite when I hear liquid being poured. I turn to the bathroom, the door is ajar and the light is on, I lean my head but I can't see anything. The sound continues as I creep closer. I lean over again but quickly turn away. He's in the bathroom, my brain shouts! Okay calm down he's human nothing is wrong with doing your business. I hear the toilet flush and my legs freeze. Not knowing what to do with myself I stand there. I hear him zip up his fly and the water run as he washes his hands.

Well, at least he's clean, I think. He walks to the door and opens it slowly like he doesn't want to make a sound but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees me standing there. He looks at me like he's never seen me before as if I'm something wonderful. I keep my eyes on him as he walks into the room and around me making me feel that I'm the predator and he's the prey. He looks down at the food then at me with a tilt of his head I can see he wants me to eat. Going to the fold up table, I didn't see it, but there's a chair attached to it. I sit down, my back to the bed but my eyes still on him. He walks to the dresser and leans against it while folding his arms. I eat quietly only looking down when I need too. The whole time he watches me.

When I'm done eating he turns to the dresser. He moves clothes out of the way until he stops and he pulls out a long silk red gown with the straps crisscrossed in the back. He holds the gown up in the air while his other hand gently straightens out the wrinkles. He faces me again his eyes come to mine, he holds the gown by the straps so that I can have a better look at it. I sit there, waiting for him to tell me what to do, if he wants anything from me he is going to have to tell me. Pointing his finger at me he signals for me to come and with slow steps I do.

He hands the gown to me and I take it. Then, he points to the bathroom and with a mental sigh I go to the bathroom in peace. Once in the bathroom I quickly change, the gown falls to my ankles like water and there are spits on both sides from the thigh down. As I walk out he's holding a small record in his hand, he turns it in the light and carefully places it on the record player. He puts the needle on it and a song plays. I've heard this one before too. There is no one singing just music, I think it's called, Sleepwalk. A classic. As the slow high-pitch of the guitar and drums fills the room he leans his head back and sigh.

Feeling that he's being watched he looks at me standing by the door. I see that the table and dinner is put away as he signals for me to come again. I stand still a moment of hesitation as my eyes move to the record player and him. My hand cups my right cheek in remembrance. He sees this and takes a few steps to me. I almost back up but he stops like we're playing 'red light, green light', then he reaches both hands out to me and signals for me to come again. It's like he's saying, 'Come on. I won't hurt you. Come on. Don't be scared'.

Looking into his eyes I take a step forward and he smiles. Soon, I walk over and stop inches away from his out-stretched hands, I look to his hands and him while narrowing my eyes. Taking a deep breath I place both of my hands in his, he rubs my fingers for a moment then, slowly bringing me close to his body. Without delay he takes both my hands and puts them over his shoulder while his hands hold my lower back. Slowly we move from side to side with his head resting on my shoulder as his hands, from time to time, would slide up and down my back.

Why does he act this way? I think, If I closed my eyes, now, I could imagine me and a man I've loved for years dancing this way, not some madman who murders, tortures and kidnaps people. Then suddenly, I feel it, something warm and soft on my lower neck.

His lips!

One by one he lays butterfly kisses up my neck. My breath is caught in my throat and my lips turn dry. He stops under my ear and starts going down again but, at the moment I feel something else, both of his hands slides down to my bottom and he gives it a squeeze. I want to jump away, fight him and scream but all I do is keep my hands on his shoulders and my face looking to the chandelier, trying hard to imagine something else, anything else. His head rises from my neck to look deep into my eyes, I try to keep my face blank and will my lips to not tremble. One hand cups my right cheek and he rubs it with his thumb, he tilts his head and for a horrible second, I thought he's going to kiss me.

His eyes move over my face like he's having trouble deciding what to do. Then taking both arms he wraps them around my shoulder like he's giving me a hug, leaving my hands free to my side. I think about grabbing the knife, oh I really, really wanted to grab it and stab him in the heart yet something in me says, 'No, Leah, no just wait a little longer'. He starts kissing my hairline over and over like a person happy to see someone after many years apart. At this point, we're not even moving to the music as it plays in the background, one of his hands hold the back of my head while the other goes down to my bottom once more but, it doesn't stop there, it reaches under my bottom to my thigh.

Sharply he pulls me towards him, placing my leg up to his hip, without thinking I grab a hold of his shirt to keep me balanced and then, oh no, oh God. I... I **feel **him. Then, I understood why he moved away from me so quickly, why his body shook and his breathing was heavy, the last time we danced. He was aroused by me! This must have angered him, made him ashamed. I look up at him, my eyes wide telling him with everything in me how surprised I am. He brings his lips close to mine but doesn't kiss me, he seems to breath in the air that I'm breathing out. He licks his lips as his hand on my risen thigh rubs it.

His manhood harder now pokes my perverse. His mouth runs over my lips, cheeks and nose. My knee starts to shake, oh God, it's been so long since I've been with a man, the forbidden fruit, I promised not to touch til marriage. Warmth flows to my womanhood and up as he grinds his hips just a bit. He sighs and I bit the inside of my cheek to bring me back to reality. Quickly he lets my leg drop, grabs my hips and turns me around.

Oh my God, oh my God, I think over and over.

He walks me to the dresser and lowers my hands down flat on the surface. Afterward, he slides his hands up my arms, down my shoulders and back, he takes my hips and pulls it too him.

And I close my eyes...

**A/N: Ain't I naughty? I'm so glad there are others liking my story. Thanks for the reviews they mean a lot. More to come next time. **

**Songs: Patsy Cline - Crazy & Santo and Johnny - Sleepwalk :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**He walks me to the dresser and lowers my hands down flat on the surface. Afterward, he slides his hands up my arms, down my shoulders and back, he takes my hips and pulls it too him. **

**And I close my eyes...**

I feel his hands run down my bottom, then, he slides his them in between the splits on each side, his black gloved hands rub my bare thighs. He's enjoying himself, there's something about touching me he likes. Then, slowly I feel the rising of the red gown like a curtain in an opera and I bite my bottom lip. I try to tell myself it's going to be okay, this is better than being tortured and killed like the other poor souls. I can do this, I pray, I can do this. When the long gown is risen over my hips, his finger traces the outline of my underwear. I hear him moan like a wounded animal, he takes his pointer and index finger inside the waistband and, just like the stockings he put on me, he carefully slides my underwear off, once it gets to my knees it drops to the ground. Please, I think, let him be quick. My bottom is bare to him now and he touches it like putting lotion on a baby, soft and light, like he's not even there. I start to feel warmth wash over my womanhood.

Oh, my goodness, Leah Richardson! Get yourself together. What is wrong with you? There is no way, NO WAY, you are getting even a little turned on by this. He's a killer, a cold-hearted evil man. Think of all the lives he's taken with those same hands! The feeling of warmth leaves my womanhood like it's been dipped in ice-cold water. One of his hands presses my lower back and, then I hear the sound all women, who's about to be raped, fear. The unzipping of his pants. I try to tell my lungs to breathe, to stay calm as my arms on the dresser begin to shake. One lone tear leaves my eye as my lips tremble. I close my eyes tight hearing him take himself out of his pants, I feel the tip touch my bottom and I want to scream. I wait for the pain as he makes a wheezing sound, the hand on my lower back moves to my hair, he holds it tight and...

I wait. Closing my eyes so tight I start seeing stars, my arms shake and my bottom lip in between my teeth. Then, suddenly I hear a soft pat-pat-pat sound behind me and I open my eyes in a flash. He didn't enter me, as I hear sighs and moans flow from his lips, his hand pumping himself slow. Suddenly, he pulls my hair and I give a low yell, he does it again and I hiss in pain, then he takes a fist full of my hair and pulls it side to side. I hiss and yell a little louder. He loosens his grip on my hair as I moan with a sigh of relief. I had no idea why he did that until I hear him pump himself faster and, his breathing labored. The pat-pat sound continues in a fast yet steady rhythm, I close my eyes trying to image I'm not here yet, my mind betrays me and I think about one of my lovers from the past; hands on my hip, thighs around my lover as we move together, kisses on my neck and every nerve on fire. I hear a growl mixed with a moan and suddenly something wet hits the back of my thigh. I open my eyes as I feel my womanhood tingle and pulse. His hands drop next to mine as he tries to calm himself, his body shakes as I feel his heavy breath on my neck. I see the right-handed glove is glossy and I wet my dry lips.

This left hand rubs my inner thigh and my knee twitches, he slides up some more and my leg bends without me thinking, he lightly touches my womanhood and I moan. Oh, God, did I do that? My mind comes back to me. This time he rubs between my lips and I almost come undone. He sits up and turns me around facing him, his eyes staring into mine, my eyes widen as I stare at him. Slowly he reaches between my thighs and I do nothing but when he slides up to my womanhood I gasp. I see a smile come to his face as he takes my wrist and pulls me to the bed. My feet like stones and my mind blank.

The swings me on the bed, I land with on my back, I look up at him as he walks between my legs. I lift my head as he leans over me looking into my eyes, my heart races as he runs his hand up and down my inner thigh. Slowly he travels down while his hands lift my legs over his shoulders. I can't breathe as something wet and soft touches my lips, again and again. Oh my goodness! He's…. he's, I try to think as his tongue does things to me I can't put into words. Heat like a bonfire lights up in my veins as he adds pain here and pleasure there. I try, I really, try as he licks, sucks and bites me until I can't take it anymore. I moan, pull the covers, cry out and gasp making noises I've never done before. I'm in so much pleasure I almost, almost reached for him to go deeper and like he can read my mind he does. Sucking on my womanhood like it's a bottle then, circling and doing back-flaps inside me with his tongue. At that moment, if he wanted me to say, Uncle, I would and even yell, Aunt, sister and brother, too. Suddenly I feel it, the heat building higher as I close my eyes and just enjoy the feeling he's giving me. I gasp over and over and then release, sweet release comes over me.

If I were any other woman I would have asked for a smoke. I didn't know if I should breath, move or smile. Somehow while he was doing sinful things to my womanhood my common sense jumped out the window and commented suicide. I laid there looking up at the ceiling feeling like I've just came from Woodstock. How... I mean, how did he learn how to do that? I mean, he can't be a normal person outside these walls. People must look at him and think, "Don't get to close to him, he's weird, never talks, has no family or friends, always keeps to himself". They would never think of him as friend, lover or killer? I thought about some of the quiet children in school I've met. Sweet children, whose afraid to talk or be around others. Was he, this man called, the Collector, one of them. Sitting in the corner staring into space, maybe he stole things but really he was collecting what he thought looked nice; a pencil, a shoe, a broken toy or maybe even a dead mouse, no, a bug most likely.

Coming back down from the high, I look around and see he's still here sitting on the edge of the bed, his back facing me. He's toying with something in his hand, I sit up my head spinning, I slide down til my feet reaches the floor I look over to him. He's bent over something as his hands move back and forth finally he takes what's in his hand and turns to me. I look at him not understanding what's so interesting. I feel like a teacher again and him the student and he's caught playing with something in class. I look down to his hands and slowly he opens it to show a spider, but not just any spider, a Black Widow. She's lovely as she moves over his, now I see, fresh pair of black gloves. A red hour-glass shape underneath as a warning to all those near, yet, he holds her like a priceless jewel. He reaches her out to me and I shake my head, not brave enough to hold a deadly creäture, however, he doesn't seem to care as he takes my left hand and lets the spider crawl from his hand to mine.

"Oh my God!" I shout. My hand shaking as the Black Widow crawls on my palm, he takes my wrist and keeps my hand steady. After a moment, I feel alright as she crawls over my palm and up my arm, he takes her from my arm and places her back in my hand. "She's beautiful." I whisper as she crawls up my arm again, I giggle at the feeling. He tilts his head and my eyes met his. For a moment we stare at each other, until I realize a smile is on my face and I look down quickly while the spider tries crawling to my leg. He takes her again, gets up like he's been sitting on needles and walks to the door and, leaves. I hear the sound of the door being locked and I sigh.

I didn't see him for a while after that and I'm glad about it too, I spend my days walking around the room or taking baths. Yet, when I start hearing screams my body freezes and I cover my ears to try to block out the sound. He feeds me, of course, leaving food by the door whenever I'm asleep or taking a bath. I woke up once smelling the food even in my dreams, my stomach growls making me get out of bed to see what he left me to eat. A TV dinner and a bottle of water but there's something else he left. On the other side of the food is a jar with a red ribbon tied in a bow around the lid that has tiny holes in it. I pick it up only seeing leafs at the bottom and a twig yet something round and black sits on it. The red hour-glass shape and long legs give it away. It's the Black Widow. I tap on the glass and she moves one leg as if to wave, hi. I remember one of the reasons she got her name, she eats the males after copulation. I smile, I guess now I'll have someone to talk too.

"Hello, Miss Black. Any good flies caught lately? I glad you're here so us girls can gossip about stuff. Which reminds me how do I feed you? I can't have you running around, you may bite me. I've heard they're very painful." I say loving the sound to my own voice. I take the food, bottle of water and jar to my bed. Opening the lid I drop a piece of food in there, hopefully she's not worried about her weight and eats it. I watch her for a moment as she drops down from the twig to pick up the food. I guess, she's hungry too. "Don't forget to say grace, Miss Black." I know it's silly talking to a spider but who else was I going to speak to? Sometimes I would spend, who knows how long, just watching her, crawl up and down the twig, move through the leafs. I talk to her about church, my Grandma, my students and sometimes Mark. I missed him. To think he's the perfect man but I don't feel anything for him but the love for a brother. Everyone has told me he'll make a good husband, it's funny, my Grandma never did. When I asked her if I should be with him, she'll say, 'only do what God tells you to'.

To waste time I take baths. It's the only thing, beside having Miss Black, that keeps me sane. The stream, hot water and the smell of flowers helps me imagine I'm far, far away; a house on a hill in Italy, a penthouse in New York or, a spa at a hotel in Tokyo. Often, I'll imagine I'm home and that this is just a dream, all a dream until I hear screaming and it shatters bringing my back to reality. I sigh, opening my eyes to the all white bathroom, thinking didn't the police say they were on a man-hunt? Have they found him this man, the one they call, The Collector. I never liked the police I always imagine them sitting eating donuts or in a car waiting for someone to give a ticket too. The words from my dream come back to me, '...you have to go where no one but God can save you', which makes sense, this man isn't stupid, he's careful and smart. He probably has a degree or even a PhD, now that would be something. Anyways he's not going to let some young or old police officer who has a 'C' average catch him. Maybe the Mayor should get the FBI involved, the Natural Guard or the CIA, KGB, MI5? I don't care which one. Why can't a guy like Double-O Seven come crashing into here with guns blazing? I could even be his Bond Girl and say things like, "Oh, James," as we drive off into the sunset. I laugh. This must be what it feels like to go crazy.

I shake my head with a smile as I let my imagination run away with me. I get out, drain the water and dry myself as I put on what I picked out earlier, a dark green nightgown that reaches a little below my knees. Walking out with the towel as I dry the ends of my hair, I walk to the bed looking at Miss Black inside the glass jar. "Hello, Miss Black." I greet with a smile, "Just hanging around, huh? I know how you feel." I don't know but my eyes pick up something reflected on the glass, tall and black by the door. With my eyes wide and my breath in my throat I turn towards the door. Standing there with his head tilted is him. He stands there watching me with his lips parted. I didn't hear him come in, I think, well that's nothing new, really. I wonder how long he's been there, did he watch me take a bath? I stand there by the bed not knowing if I should greet him or thank him for giving me the spider. He looks around the room for a moment, I guess to make sure I didn't break anything. With my eyes on him he walks to me and thank God, my legs didn't shake. He stands in front of me then at the Black Widow in the jar, he picks up the jar and for a moment I thought he was going to take her away. He turns the jar to look at the spider then me and without thinking I speak.

"Thank you, for letting me have her. Miss Black." I say looking him in the eyes. He smiles and nods his head as to say, you're welcome. He opens the jar and I see him drop three dead flies inside. I watch with wonder as Miss Black picks up one and returns to her twig. He closes it and sits the jar down on the dresser. I see the record player is back as he turns a button and places the needle on the moving record. The first tunes of the song makes my heart warm. I know this song, I think, No. I love this song.

**Imagine me and you, I do. **

**I think about you day and night it's only right.**

**To think about the girl you love and, hold her tight.**

**So happy together.**

He stands there as the song plays and couldn't help but stand next to him. I haven't heard this song in so long. I close my eyes and start singing along.

**If I should call you up, invest a dime.**

**And you say you belong to me and, ease my mind.**

**Imagine how the world could be, so very fine.**

**So happy together.**

**I can't see me loving nobody but you.**

**For all my life.**

**When you're with me baby the skies will be blue.**

**For all my life. **

**Me and you and you and me.**

**No matter how they toss the dice it had to be.**

**The only one for me is you and you for me.**

**So happy together.**

**I can't see me loving nobody but you.**

**For all my life.**

**When you're with me baby the skies will be blue.**

**For all my life. **

**Me and you and you and me.**

**No matter how they toss the dice it had to be.**

**The only one for me is you and you for me.**

**So happy together.**

**Me and you and you and me.**

**No matter how they toss the dice it had to be.**

**The only one for me is you and you for me.**

**So happy together.**

**So happy together.**

**How is the weather?**

**So happy together.**

**We're happy together.**

**So happy together.**

**Happy together.**

**So happy together.**

**So happy together.**

When the song is over I smile as memories of me dancing and singing badly with friends flash in my head. I want to cry hearing a happy song like this again. I feel something rub my cheek, forgetting he was even there I look at him as he wipes my lone tear away with his thumb.

"I love this song." I say as the song plays again.

We stand there listening to the song as it plays and plays. And every time I sing along and think of a happy memory until I feel his hand in mine, our fingers intertwined as his thumb rubs mine. Suddenly I can't hear the song anymore, I don't want to hear it, a song like this doesn't belong in a horrible evil place like this were souls are tortured and killed. I think, of the woman I saw when I first came here, laying on a bed with her insides hanging in a net above her. I can only imagine what other monstrous things he's done. I turn the button I saw him use and switch it off. He turns to me, takes me by the shoulders and makes me face him, his black pearl eyes search my face. One of his hands combs through my hair, I see him lick his lips as he leans his head close to mine like he wants to kiss me. Yet he doesn't. He pulls me to his body and his hands rubs my arms and back, his hands are everywhere while he smells my hair. If he was any other man and this was any other time I would have hugged him, I've never been so isolated before and this madman is the only human contact I have. I sigh.

He takes my arms and puts them over his shoulders, quickly he grabs the back of my thighs and lifts me off my feet leaving my legs on each side of his waist. Taken by surprise I put my chin on his shoulder so he wouldn't see my widen eyes and open mouth. He carries me to the bed and gently lays me down like a baby. I stare up at him as his body moves over mine, I try hard to not let any feeling show as he spreads my hair over the pillow. When he's done he smells my neck and then starts placing soft butterfly kisses all over my neck, shoulder and jaw. All my brain keeps demanding is, how does he know how to be gentle? Why does he act like a lover and not a guy just trying to get some action? I think about the songs he's played. Does it mean something? I try to think but his hands start traveling over my body, my arms, stomach, and breast. His fingers rub on each nipple while he trances my collar-bone with his tongue. Oh, dear Lord. This...feels...so...ahh. My stomach is tied in knots, my toes curl and my hands pulls the sheets as I tighten my thighs as warmth flows over my womanhood. I think I gasp or maybe he did. I don't know, but I do know that I can feel him in his pants as it pokes my hip. My knee rises off the bed a bit and I hear him let out a low hiss with a moan at the end, oh my, did I just... oops.

Now I can really feel him as his manhood feels like it's going to burst out his zipper. He nibbles on my shoulder and I moan as his hand rubs the inside of my thigh. Why? I think, did I have to find a guy who can make a girl wanna scream in pleasure and also makes people scream in horror? This isn't right! Suddenly, he stops everything and turns me over to my stomach. I lay there with my face to the side watching him from the corner of my eye, he takes my hands and lays on each side of my head. Then he rubs my back and down to my bottom, he pulls up my gown til it stops at my upper back. His hands rub over my bare skin as I hear his zipper. My eyes close while I pray he'll be gentle. Yet, just as the last time he takes himself and I hear the pat-pat-pat sound of his hand moving up and down. He grabs my hair like before and makes me hiss, yell and moan. I couldn't help it as I start getting turned on from the sound of him touching himself, between my legs I feel wetness and I bite my lip in shame. He moans and growls some more until I feel wetness on my lower back, he sighs as his body shakes and he tries to regain himself. I lay there with my body going through its own battle, I feel him take something and wipes my lower back, maybe a napkin. Well, that was nice of him, I think to myself.

I hear his zipper again and then suddenly he flaps me to my back. He kisses my stomach and hips, then goes down to my perverse and slides my panties off while he continues to kiss me, he's between my legs and my underwear is down to my ankles as he spreads me wide. I look to the ceiling as I feel his tongue circle my area, he licks up my inner thigh and down the other, and I almost forgot to breath. He bites one side of my lip and I gasp as I feel my womanhood pulse then he licks it, his tongue like a lizard. He licks the other side of my lip like a lollypop and gives it a bite, this time a little hard, his tongue trails to the bottom and up between my lips. Again and again and, oh my fudge goodies, again! I gasp, moan and bite my fingers as his tongue circles around and around inside me, then he wiggles it over my womanhood, until finally, he sucks it while I feel his fingers pump inside me at the same time. Harder he sucks until the bed rocks and without a second thought my hand grabs his head making him go deeper. I gasp, coming so hard I see stars.

"Oh, Fudge!" I say. My head spins and my legs shake. He kisses me up to my hips while rubbing my stomach. "Butter cookies! What the... fudge!" I say and I hear him chuckle as he rests his chin on my hip. I look down at him as he licks his lips, "You're the devil. You have to be." I lay my head back down looking up at the ceiling, "Martini and cheese, there is no way." I lick my dry lips, "I need to pray." I say breathlessly. I've never felt so dirty and so good. Lord, I felt like singing. How can a man be evil but act so loving? I mean am I the only one he acts this way towards? I've heard the news and read the papers about people dying in the most cruelest way so, what makes me any different? I want to ask him, why, why doesn't he hurt me like the others but something tells me not to press my luck, after all he was thinking about hurting me the first time we danced.

He sits up and crawls up to my face looking me in the eye, silently, with my eyes, I ask him why but he just tilts his head. He leans down and kisses me on my brow. He rolls off me and I sit up watching him go to the dresser, he takes the record player and backs out of the room until all I can see is the glow of his eyes then, he closes the door. I hear the door lock then his footsteps walking down the hall. I'm about to get off the bed to do my business until I hear a voice.

"Well look who came back. Huh, where have you been? I heard the gay song you were playing. I always knew you were a fagot. You probably take it up the arse, you p*ssy. I bet you've never seen a girl your whole life. You hear me! Once I get out of here, I'm gonna kill you, you f*cker, you're gonna die, you f*cking d*ck lover."

There's silence for a moment until I hear the voice again and this time it's much clear.

"What are you doing? Ahhhhhhhh! I hate you, you piece of sh*t! I HATE YOU! F*ck you, f*ck you, f*ck you! Ahhhhhh aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Then, there's silence once again. I hear that voice from time to time. It's the voice of a man maybe early thirties or so. He makes the most noise and although the Collector will hurt him, he hasn't killed him. He's a fighter, that one. Whoever he is. I go to the bathroom and take a quick shower as well, as the water pours on me I still can't help feeling the ghost of his tongue and hands on me. Please God, tell me this isn't happening. Get it together Leah, I think, you're scared, you're alone and you're trapped with a madman. Of course you gave in when he started touching you. It's not your fault it's your bodies fault. Don't worry if he tries again it'll be different. You won't give in no matter how hard he tries. Flashes of feeling his tongue and teeth work my womanhood sends a flow of warmth through my body. I close my eyes as my hand slides over my breast then, down between my legs as I feel my womanhood pulse. I snap my eyes open and take my hand from between my legs. I turn off the shower and jump out like there's a fire. I dry off and put the green gown on once more and climb into bed.

"Night, Miss Black." I call seeing the jar still on the dresser.

Since I've been here I haven't dreamed. When I sleep my mind just goes numb and quiet but this time I did dream. The sun is bright, the sky is a golden baby blue as water clear like diamonds clash on the sea-shore. I'm laying on my stomach with my arms folded under my head with a soft towel to keep my body from touching the hot sand. The wind blows in my hair and I smile. Feeling this is what life is suppose to be like. Birds crying over my head and the sound of waves are the only noises I hear. I don't know how but I knew I had no clothes on like I'm at one of those nude breaches but this place, this island is my own breach and I can do what ever I want. My own paradise. Then, I feel something soft and warm move over my back, it's a hand rubbing cool sun lotion on me. I smile, as hands move all over my back and shoulders. I hum, showing whoever is touching me that I like what he's doing. "More." I whisper and he rubs me all the way down to my feet and up again, I bite my lip. "More." I say again as one hand rubs between my legs, I spread them a bit and the hand goes up and up until it touches where I want it too. A finger rubs my womanhood as the other hand goes under me to play with my breast. I sigh as the hand works me softly, I lift my hips up to give the hand more room as it pumps inside me. I moan, pulling on the towel as I bite my tongue to keep from crying out.

I can feel it, the body of a man over me and I rise my hips like a cat in heat. I want him, I want him inside me. Not his hand. I move my hand over his as he continues to work inside me. "I want you," I moan, "I want you in me, please." I say. His hot breath on my neck and the hand on my breast goes to my wrist, he holds me tight and I'm excited. I can feel myself about to come so I rock my hips against his hand. I gasp over and over making little hiccup sounds until sweet release washes over me. I sigh, my body covered in cool sweat and my womanhood pulsing. I lay down again as lips kiss my cheek.

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorite and followed my story. Love ya!**

**Song: The Turtles - So happy together**


	5. Chapter 5

For a while it seemed like he wasn't going to come back to whatever this place is. Food wasn't bought in and not a sound could be heard through the whole place. I've thought about escaping, but what good would that do? My door is made of steal and my window is boarded up with bricks and the only friend I've got is a spider. Plus, this place must be huge in order to hold my room like an apartment or a hotel, maybe. I mean there is no way he build this room by hand, no sound of people, police sirens or cars driving by. Meaning that this place is in the middle of nowhere the only way to get to others would be by car. And besides, the last time I checked, or was out, it was the end of November. I know without a shadow of doubt its freezing outside even if I escape I won't make it wearing silk clothing.

"What should I do, Miss Black?" I ask the black widow spider hanging from a twig in her jar. "I have to leave this place. Pain and death is all around me here and I feel like I'm going mad just being here." This man, The Collector, he could turn on me at any moment. I'm scared. While, taking a bath I thought about it, putting my head under water and never coming up for air. I know it's a total sin, one of the unforgivable ones to take your own life but I feel so empty inside. I watch the spider who probably feels the same way being trapped in the jar. "Maybe, I should take a nap. That always seems to help."

I lay down and sleep. My mind fulled with voices and sounds. _Screaming, blood and pain as black gloved hands and a black pearl eyes that shine like an animal flash across bloody tools. A body of a person strapped down on to a bed yelling as he picks up another tool to use, the body shakes, growling in pain as more blood flows over on to the floor. 'Stop', I want to say, 'Stop this madness, please. Why Lord must there me so much death? When will it end?' I beg seeing broken bodies under my feet, men, women and children. So much blood like an ocean rises up and up until it reaches my ankles, knees then, thighs. The walls around me are made of glass as I bang and bang over and over. Yelling to be free, the man, the Collector watches with his head tilted as if I'm apart of a side show. The blood rises higher until its up to my chest, pieces of bodies parts, arms, feet, heads float as I try to push them away from me. 'Please, God let me out!' I yell while looking up in shines a bright light as I hear my Grandma's voice, 'You gotta be strong baby'. 'Grandma please, I don't want to die,' I yell. The blood keeps rising until it's under my chin, I cry as I feel all hope is lost, I stand there waiting for the blood to cover my head so that I may join the dead. 'Oh God,' I cry one last time, 'help me to be strong'._

I scream myself awake, cold sweat covers my body, by heart is beating so hard I feel like it is going to burst out of my chest as I try to catch my breath. My body is shaking and I can still see the bodies and blood clearly in my mind. Suddenly something touch the side of my face and I jump and crawl to the other side of the bed almost falling off. I look to where I was and see him. Standing there with a small white rag in his hand, he tilts his head as his eyes watch me as if I've gone crazy. He walks close and starts crawling on the bed towards me.

"No!" I yell, "Stay away from me." I order fear in every word.

He stops for a second and starts again. I get off the bed as he comes to my side standing in front of me. I back up to the dresser and suddenly I see the door is cracked open from the corner of my eye. Without thinking I run to it as I hear his steps behind me. I open the door, push my body through and close it behind me, his arm is caught in the door as I try to close it, his hand swings wildly as I pull and pull. He grabs my hair and I scream. I open it a little and slam the door on his arm. He yells and lets go. I pull the door close as my weak feet fall under me and I slide to the floor, my body feels like lighting in my bones as I shot me up to my feet and I run down the hall. I hear banging and growling like a wild dog behind me and don't look back.

As I'm running I trip on something and see it's a wire. He does place traps, I think, as I get up again. I run left, right making turns every which way. I run down stairs and come to a clearing. Blue? Blue tall, wide rectangle glasses in rows on each side catches my eyes. Shelves of stuffed animals and odd objects. I walk to the rectangle glasses and my eyes widen, inside are bodies strewed up to make strange forms, a skeleton with more than one arm and leg sticking on each side like a spider. There are also paintings of deformed shaped humans. This man's taste is far from normal it's inhuman.

I hear footsteps and my heart stops as my feet turn numb. I see a shadow and turn to it as I see him look one way then the other. He spots me and I stand there, knowing I've messed up, knowing I'm going to be in trouble. He marches towards me and I close my eyes and wait for him to kill him. I wait and feel nothing. I slowly open my eyes to see him breathing hard with rage, his eyes wide and his teeth bare. Then, he slaps me, not hard enough to bruise me but enough to get his point across. I keep my head turned as he hits me on the other cheek, he does this six more time. My cheeks hurt as I start to cry knowing what he's saying with each slap.

**'You belong to me. Don't you ever, ever run away from me again. You're mine!'**.

So, this is what being a prostitute feels like after all that is what I am to him, isn't it? I'm not one of the people he tortures for kicks I'm the girl he takes pleasure from. I belong to him. It all makes sense now, the nice clothes, the room and food. I'm his woman, his whore and when he wants me that's when he comes.

I look up at him with watery eyes. I have to make this right.

"I'm sorry." I say. "I"m so, so sorry." He's surprised but lets me continue. "I knew I wouldn't escape but I just.. I just had to get out of there!" I yell. "I won't makes promises. I won't lie to you but I am sorry. I know you're mad and you should be. I'm sorry."

I say calmly finally looking down and wiping my wet face. The only way to come clean is be honest, don't make it seem like it's his fault but my own. I've learned that when dealing with children and special needs children if something goes wrong it's not their fault but yours. He takes a step towards me and I take a step back, he signals for me to come and I take a slow step towards him. He takes me by the shoulders and looks over my body, maybe checking to see if I'm hurt. He takes my chin and moves my face so he can have a look at my cheeks. He rubs one side and I flinch. He sighs as he gently runs his hand through my hair. He looks deep into my eyes and without any words I understand.

'**Don't do this again'. **I nod my head. Without thinking I run into his arms like a lost child, he freezes for a second, then he brings his arms around me while rubbing my head and smelling my skin.

"I'm sorry." I keep saying and he rubs my back.

Well at least I tried, I think to myself. He lets me go but holds my left wrist, he walks between me and I follow. He walks to one of the rectangle glasses, looking again I can see that there's water inside like an aquarium, yet this aquarium doesn't hold fish. He looks up at one and slides his hand up and down the glass. His mouth open and eyes wide as if he's amazed, I stand there feeling uneasy being around his works-of-art. He looks to me and my eyes met his, he looks from the glass to me, I hope he's not asking me what I think of them because he won't like his answer. He pulls me until I am in front of him with my back to the his chest, his hands move through my hair, my eyes close not wanting to look at the poor soul he had to carve up to make this. I feel his hands over my body and my female alarm bell goes off. He wants me. Oh, Lord not now. Not in this place. Before these things.

He pushes forward and I can feel him in his pants. His hands move to my breast, he sighs and I can hear him lick his lips. My body screams for freedom of him and this place. I shouldn't have run now my brain can't help but think of ways to escape when I know it's useless. Suddenly, I think, I could use this to make him forgive me. Sure he slapped me but how do I know he will trust me again. Swallowing my pride, I move my hands to his thighs, he stops rubbing my breast and smells my hair as I poke my bottom out to him and he moans. Slowly I grind my bottom over his clothed manhood and he places his hands on the glass and hisses in my ear. His masked face lays close to mine as I continue to grind against him as if in a dance. Mostly dirty dancing but he's no handsome actor. I move my hands to the back of his thighs and up to his bottom, oh fudge, I push his lower body up against my bottom and his black glove hands form into fists. He gives a low gasp and his chest rises up and down as fast as the beat of my heart.

"I'm sorry." I say and he rubs his chin across my cheek as if to say.

**'I heard you'**

"I'm really, really sorry. I felt I'll go crazy if I stayed any longer." I whisper innocently and he rubs my face again.

**'I know. It's alright.' **He seems to say.

"I won't make empty promises to you. I won't ask for mercy. I disobeyed you and I'm wrong."

His hands press to my stomach and down to my thighs while he places kisses on my shoulder.

**'Show me, show me you're sorry.'**

I can hear him say with each movement he makes. He turns my around suddenly, I face him as he touches my face and hair, he leans in like he's going to kiss me but he just slides his lips across my skin. I touch his stomach feeling muscle underneath his black shirt, his eyes met mine as I slide my hand down to his pants, quickly I un-zip him and he licks my lips. I reach inside for him and oh my, he's... huge.

Okay, focus Leah.

Then, I feel him and his eyes close as one hand holds my hair, he's a little wet and the woman inside me smiles knowing I did this to him. I rub him gently from the tip to the end, he gasps as he becomes hard in my hand, his manhood coming to its full length. I pull him out and look down at him. Oh my cookies! Okay he's a white male, he's has not been cut from birth as the tip pokes out from the foreskin and, he his black or dark brown hair around the end, I note. I look up at him again and he smirks pleased that maybe I find his manhood to my liking, he pulls my hair and I take that as an 'go'. I start touching him lightly, smoothing my fingers into patterns, I place my thumb on the tip moving it side to side like a windshield wiper then, in circles. He moans as he pulses in my hand, his lips so close to mine I can smell a mint scent coming from his breath.

I stop teasing him which is what he wants and take him fully in my hand, I pump him in a calm rhythm watching him come undone, after a while, I take my other hand and play with is balls. His hand rub my breast and I moan, a little ashamed that this turns me on, he pulls my hair again and I hiss as he leans his head against mine. I pump him faster while squeezing the end but loosing my hold as I go up to the tip and then in reverse. I feel his hip jerk into my hand as I feel wetness between my legs as I watch my handiwork. He's so ready to come as I take both my hands now and pump him, he leans his head on my shoulder, his breathing coming in fast.

"You liked it didn't you?" I whisper. "Chasing me. Looking for me as a predator searching for prey." He moans and I know it's a 'yes'. "That what you love, the hunt? It makes you excited as if your riding on a roller-coaster with your hands up." I add and I feel his knees go weak.

He stills. His hand tightens in my hair. I feel wetness on my hand as I pump him slowly while he growls out his release.

It takes him a while to calm his pleasured body, shakes going through him as if he's been electrocuted, his lungs taking air in and out loudly, after a while, he shakes his head as if getting out of a daze. He looks to me, his eyes roaming over my face to collect every detail from my hair, eyes, nose and lips. His mouth opens as if he wants to say something, his lips forming words but nothing comes out and my eyes widen hoping to hear words that aren't yelled in pain or anger. A voice to swallow away the loneliness I feel in this horrible nightmare. He hesitates and I can see it in his eyes yet his mouth reminds open as if words are caught on his tongue.

"Say something." I whisper gently as if talking to a child. Tears sting my eyes as I feel so foolish asking a madman to say something as if the words from his lips could break a chain or heal a wound. I lean my head on his chest as my brain threatens to give up. I let the tears fall on his black shirt.

"Complete." I hear. My eyes widen and look up at him in disbelief.

"What?" I ask, "What did you say? Please." I plead.

He takes his hands and puts them on both sides of my face, his lips move close to mine as he rubs his forehead like a cat.

"Complete." He whispers.

I don't know what he meant and for some reason I know he won't tell me if I asked. Realizing that he's still undone I take his still warm manhood and place him back into his pants. He moans pulling my body close to his, he wants me again as his hands starting touching my body. He touches my breast, stomach, legs and back. His black gloved hands are everywhere as he starts kissing my neck. I rise my knee up between his legs and bump his groan, he growls, until suddenly he grabs my risen leg and starts sliding his groan over my thigh. I watch him as his black pearl eye stay focused on me I could imagine him thinking about being inside me as his hips continue to rub over my risen thigh. Then, he stops takes the back of both my thighs and lifts me up, my arms and legs wrap around him as he starts bumping against my clothed womanhood. The only thing between us is his pants and my panties. I get warm inside as each thrust against me sends heat in my toes as I lock my ankles like a chain around him, one of his hands leave my thigh and I feel it moves my panties aside, it enters my wet womanhood and I moan as his finger pumps into me. He stopped thrusting against me and watches as I come undone before him. This is different from the other times, he's in front of me as his mouth makes that wheezing sound, his head tilts as he pumps me harder. A slapping sound and my moans fill the room while I grab at his shoulders. I close my eyes enjoying the feeling he's giving me. In moments, I come and he licks my neck.

After I cool down, he lets me down as I stand on my weak feet, his black gloved hand that he used to give me pleasure goes to his mouth as he sucks the evidence of what he did from his fingers. Licking his lips like he's just eaten chocolate he takes my wrist and walks away with me following. We take so many twists and turns that I lose count and before I know it he opens a door and pushes me inside. I look around and realize its my room I turn around to him, fear crawling up my back thinking he's still angry with me. He looks at me then around the room, he closes the door behind him and I take a sharp step back to the bed post. His finger trails over the door, the wall and finally to the dresser. His fingers move over the surface like a painter. Maybe, he's thinking of what to do with me, I thought to myself. I see him rub his left upper arm and I remember I slammed on door on him. Taking a deep breath I walk close to him.

"I'm sorry about your arm." I say. He looks at me and tilts his head. "Your arm," I point, "I slammed the door on it. I'm sorry." I say willing my voice not to shake.

He turns to me then looks down at his arm, he rubs it again and I hear a soft hiss. I walk close to him but stop when he quickly looks at me like a lion with a thorn in his paw, too prideful to show he's hurt.

"Let me see." I say reaching out but he draws it away, I put my hand out again with my eyes trained on him.

Slowly I'm before him, I take his arm and give it a light rub and he sighs. I slide my hand up and he hisses, so that's where it hurts.

"Wait a moment." I say but he grabs my arm he stares at me and then the door. "I'm not leaving. I'm going to the bathroom."

He looses his hold and I go to the bathroom, take a rag, run some cold water on it and ring it out. I come back into the room and he's sitting on the bed facing the bathroom door. I come towards him and kneel to the floor before him as I place the cold rug on his arm. He flinched for a while until the coldness smooths his arm, I keep my eyes focused on it until I feel his hand gently run over my cheek. I've almost forgotten he hit me and I flinch as well when he touches it. I look up into his eyes and if I he was someone else and if we were somewhere else I would have said he looked at me lovingly.

The rag starts to feel warm again so I get up to run cold water on it. When I return, he's gone. I sigh and return to the bathroom. I sit on the side of the tub to think, I tried to run away well, run out of this room really, yes, he was angry and he may have hit me but he didn't kill me. Sure, I don't want to die but why does he keep me? Duh, it's the fact that I'm a woman and he's a man and he can find pleasure from me without paying for it. But won't he get bored, won't he want another? Has he wanted others before me? Am I the first or the middle or last? All I know is that he treats me different, well I think he does, since I have not seen another soul but him. What is it about me that draws him? The first word he said to me rings in my head like church bells, 'Complete'. What does he mean?

I get up from the tub but sit down feeling a sharp pain in my lower stomach. Oh no! I totally forgot about that. I feel between my legs and it's wet, as I hold my hand up I see blood. Great! My cycle started, I have horrible cramps during these times and I need pain killers and pads quick. I turn on the shower and wash myself trying to think quick before my cramps start. When I'm done, I take as much tissue paper and put it between my legs to buy me time. What do I do? I have to do something. Every idea that came to my head ended with the Collector. I have to get his attention, I'll go crazy having pain for five whole days. God, I can't believe I just thought that, when poor souls here go through more.

I head to my room and to the dresser when I get there something catches my eye. On the dresser is a box of pads and four white pills. Oh, thank you Jesus! How he knew my cycle would start flew from my mind as I take the pads, which happen to be the ones I always buy and one of the pills. I run to the bathroom and make quick work of my female business. Hopefully the pills are strong enough to get me through the rest of my cycle. When I'm done I lay down and rest.

* * *

For months, he didn't show himself, I've kept track whenever my cycle came along. Judging from that I think I've been here four months, which means, it's March since he took me on the last week of November. He left me food, water and nothing more. I would wake up hearing screams or cries most often. Each passing moment I felt lower and lower. Talking to my black widow won't even help to cheer me up. Often I would feel so low I wouldn't pray or eat. I'll lay in bed staring into space. My mind blank as tears fell from my eyes, when I slept no dreams came and sometimes I could hear voices, like shadows in my head of all the things I didn't do, all the things I did do and wish I've done flashed before my mind as a world wind. Thoughts of the world outside, the places I've never seen and I've wished I had. The sun shining, the green grass and the blue sky. I remember times when I would sit at my window with a mug of hot coca and watch the rain. I wish I could watch it now, or even the sun shine through the gray clouds. The breeze blowing on my face. Saying, hello, to my co-workers, students and church members. Staying at home, watching TV while I cook dinner.

_Where is your faith?_ I would hear a voice say in my head as I'll cry myself to sleep. Over and over the same question would fill my mind. I've felt like I've been thrown down a dark hole with no light at the end. As if I'm on a ship in the middle of the ocean with no sail.

* * *

While I'm asleep I feel something on the bed. An extra weight on the other side making the bed squeak under the presser. I open my eyes, although they feel heavy and in pain from me crying the last time I was awoke. I turn my head and see a dark figure next to me, I blink to clear my vision and as my eyes focus I see it's him. He's laying next me flat on his back but his head is facing me, he stares at me, his black pearl eyes moving across my face as a painter would look over a work of art. I feel his hand touch my face and do nothing, tears leak from my eyes as he smooths his hand over my hair. Suddenly, the hand in my hair goes to my arm while his other hand slides under my body. He pulls me towards him, my face hidden under his chin as he holds me. The warmth of his body and the smell of the soap he washed with fills my senses. I moan and I hear him hush me as he rubs my head. I cry like a baby and feel no shame as he holds me tighter like a father holding his once lost child.

Soon my eyes are heavy again and I close them. Some how my sleeping mind is still aware that he's there holding me. I bury my body into his like he's a lifeline and after months I feel human again. I thank God, of even this small blessing. When I wake, his breathing chest meets my eyes as it raises up and down, a light snore reaches my ears and strong arms wrapped around me with a leg placed over mine. A small smile takes control and I let it come. Yes, I'm in the arms of a madman but said madman just made me feel like I'm not trapped on an island. Maybe this is why those kidnapped end up feeling attached to their kidnappers? Moments like these when they feel as if they're going mad but find comfort in the ones doing them harm.

I hear a sigh as his hand rubs my back and he smells my hair. I lift my head, as my eyes meet his I whisper the only words I can think of.

"Thank you."

He moves my hair out of my face and kisses my lips.

Have you ever felt as if there was a shift in the universe? As if all the planets, stars and every event in human history came together like falling domino, one after the other. As if a time bomb finally goes off and it changes your view of the world. That one second in time when you know everything is going to change after this and that there is no going back whether you are willing or not. Well, that is what I felt when he kissed my lips.

A soft kiss as his lips touching mine, nothing more. The world seems bright and I could feel the cloud over my head vanish. He's lips leaves mine and his eyes search my face as a boy unsure the girl he kissed 'like-likes' him back. I look at him, frozen and unsure what I should do as if it's my first time kissing. He takes his hand to the back of my head and leans down to kiss me again. Again and again, his lips would kiss me. Each time our lips touched I'll feel the need, the want and... hunger. Hunger for me, for things he didn't understand til now, for what he saw but couldn't have and didn't know how to get.

His mind became as an open book to me. I could see him at home, a radio playing in background or, a TV on and his eyes watching but not watching, listening but not listening. To him, his house is quiet, empty and ugly. That's all it is a house, a shell to keep him from the cold, heat, rain and snow. He's lives a good life yet all the things he has mean nothing. The nice house, the car and good job.

Nothing.

The world around him moves, seasons change yet he feels like it happening without him, going on without him like a rock in mud that is unable to get out. He sees things, smiling faces, children laughing, couples kissing, a mother holding her baby, a family walking together yet, in the mist of all this happiness he feels nothing. To him it's a side show, happiness. Things like pain, anger and sorrow make sense they are the only things that's real. The world is not bright but forever dark and cold.

He can fit in to fool others but only for a while, inside his shell, his house he lets the real him show. Hollow, angry, pain, hunger and sometimes sorrow. He doesn't know what he wants, he's looking for something but can't find it because he doesn't know where to look.

You can touch his hand, call his name and see that he's there but he's not. His mind running through a labyrinth like the ever hungry Minotaur in Greek mythology, half man and half bull cursed to live in a cage until death.

Then one day, a painting, a voice, a smile. Her voice asking him a question he didn't know how to answer so he leaves. He works, sleeps, eats, hunts but that face, her face dances in his mind like a flame. He takes her and she's his, his to hurt, his to make scream yet her eyes, they stare at him unafraid and strong. He wants to hurt her, make her afraid, make her his collection. He needs to see her blood and hear her scream like the others, like all the others. Yet, he touches her, why he doesn't know, but he wants to again and again. Maybe, he'll get bored with her yet, he's troubled. He wants to touch her hair, her skin, he wants to look into her eyes, he wants her body against his. He's ashamed, he's losing force, he has to put her in the collection, he has to! But he can't, he doesn't want to! She's so pure, different... special.

He has to distance himself but she's every where to him, his job, his house, walking beside him, smiling at him in his dreams. He doesn't fight it anymore and tastes her and... likes it. She likes it too, he can't stop thinking about her, he has to keep her, he has to control himself but he wants her all the time. Her smell, her body, her eyes burn him and he feels so alive. He needs her!

I look at him my eyes wide as the feelings inside him become so clear to me. He rubs my face while his arm holds me close to him. Suddenly I feel his manhood through his pants, my eyes drops down for a second and he looks down too, almost shy as his eyes dance over my face. Silently, without words, I can hear him ask.

'**Can we? You know.'**

I sit up on the bed not really knowing why as his hand rubs my lower back like a caring lover. He knows I don't feel well and he's trying to be confronting, I guess, he sits up too and starts placing light kisses on my shoulder and neck. I look at him and he kisses my lips, his hand moves down to the helm of my night gown and pulls upward until up and over my head. He throws it down somewhere as I sit there with only my panties on, he touches my body, arms, breast and stomach. He gently lays me down on the bed and kisses my breast while his hands rub me all over. I close my eyes, as he teases me, while I'm imagining it's someone else loving me this way. I feel him take my arms and puts them over my head to the head-board, I feel something wrap around my wrist and I snap open my eyes, I look up to my hands and see it's a black satin ribbon tied to me like I'm a hunted deer. I look at him but he's looking at my body as he sits on his knees between my legs. He reaches in his back pocket and fear rises in my stomach thinking he's got a knife but when he removes it, it's a black surf.

Soft as cotton and thick as fur, he puts the surf over my eyes and ties it in the back. He sighs, as if he's been holding his breath for so long. Completely blind and bound I only have my hearing, smell and touch to keep me alert. I feel the bed under me move as weight is taken off, I hear footsteps on the side of the bed. 'Did he get off? I think, What's he doing?' Until I hear the un-buckling of his pants and the sound of something hitting the floor. I hear more movement and it's clear. He's removing his clothes! My eyes move around wildly, although I can't see, as I hear nothing but silence.

The bed moves again as weight is being put on and I hear his breathing and then I feel it. Warm, soft skin touch my face, I gasp, as he touches me again and then through my hair being careful of the surf over my eyes. I feel his breath over my lips and hear him lick his lips, I feel his nose touch mine as he lowers down to kiss me, he moans as he kisses me harder like he wants to swallow me whole, his teeth nipping at my bottom lips then his tongue traces the inside of my mouth.

I can feel his arms place themselves on both sides of my head as his fingers play with my arms, his chest, the chest of a man is against my breast as our nipples touch. His bare legs rub between mine as I move my foot across the back of his calf, curious about him. He continues to kiss me, my jaw, cheek and neck, his face is smooth without a scar or even a shadow. Finally he allows his hands to explore my body. Making me moan and bit my lip in pleasure. I feet my womanhood calling for a taste of the 'forbidden fruit' that I swore to God not to touch until marriage. Oh, but to feel him so warm and alive against me, I can't help but moan just a little louder as he sucks on my breast. I bend my leg and rub it against his hip, giving the sign that I want him. He stops teasing me and he pulls down and off my panties that I know are shamefully wet, with my last clothing gone my womanhood pulses for entrance.

I feel his hand touch my womanhood and can't help but gasp in pleasure, he rubs me as my legs widen wanting more. I feel him lick my stomach and I buck my hips to him. His hand leaves my womanhood as he climbs over me, his hands on both sides of my head.

He enters me and I freeze. His manhood strong and thick slides inside my wet and pulsing womanhood. It's been so long since I've been with a man and so I hiss as pain shots up my spine. I try to keep my breathing under control and bare through the pain, he kisses my cheek as his hand smooths my hip, tears leave my eyes at the presser as I continue to breath. After a moment, he hear him suck in a breath and I know he's holding himself back because of me and I thank God for the mercy.

I sigh, relaxed now and he draws out and quickly back in. I gasp. He goes slow, testing me, like it's my first time although it feels that way. After a while, he thrusts into me at a steady pace. One hand holds my hip in place while the other arm holds him up, he kisses me and I feel my womanhood pulse with want. Each thrust he moans like a wounded animal as if he's hurt. Suddenly, he thrusts into me hard, his speed is slow but his thrusts are rough as I hiccup with each push. My hips angle up and my legs wrap around him tight, never in my wildness dreams did I imagine him being the one to do what I've always dreamed of. Every woman has her 'secret pleasures' they never tell during intercourse but once again, he knew.

I'm so close to coming that I pull on the black ribbon keeping my hands tied, I gasp over and over as his thrusts become harder and he picks up the pace. The bed creeks under the presser and I turn my head, breathing hard in his ear. He growls as the hand holding my hip squeezes me painfully tight. In moments I come hard, gasping in his ear, afterwords he comes giving a few thrust to my sore womanhood. Sweat coats me and him as our bodies shake from the force of such pleasure. I see stars behind my lids and bite his ear near my lips and I hear him moan. He doesn't move and I don't want him too as I try to hold on to this moment where time just seems to stop. I rub my face against his as he places loving kisses on my nose making me giggle.

His manhood is soft now and he slides it out making me feel empty inside but he remains on top of me like a cover to keep out the world, his face buried in my neck, his arms wrap around my wist while I try to come down from the high of passion.

'If only, I think, if only I've met this man at another place and time. What a couple we would be? Making love this good should be a crime since sane men can't do anything but roll on you then roll off in seconds.'

I feel him move as warm covers are pulled over me, he flips me to where I'm laying on his chest. My hands are still tied as my arms lay on the sides of his head. He rubs my back with our legs intertwined. Feeling comfortable sleep finds me as I rub my cheek on his chest.

**A/N : Hello everyone and thank you for all the lovly reviews and seeing the alerts makes me smile. **


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